


The Memory You Left

by CastelloFlare



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Angst, F/M, Implied Bethyl, Season 5 MSF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:13:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2711906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastelloFlare/pseuds/CastelloFlare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't tell for how long, but all he knew was he held her hand. And when he did, he knew he had found everything he always thought he didn't need, didn't want, couldn't have. But she was gone.</p><p> </p><p>And he needed to hold on to something of hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Memory You Left

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't really make an angry Daryl here. More like I couldn't write an angry grieving Daryl well enough. But this is me still mourning over a strong girl's abrupt end.

Daryl's eyes fluttered open. Half of his face was buried in dirt, his mouth dry and his throat coarse. His side exposed to the open air itched, the shoulder he slept on ached. His neck felt stiff; how long had he been lying on his side? How long had he been sleeping? It felt like a week, a month, a year, or even longer. It felt like a lifetime. His body hurt. So did his head.

 

These sensations told him something. He was alive.

 

But the hand cradled in his was stone cold. Her fingers had already stiffened.

 

He can't tell for how long, but all he knew was he held her hand. And when he did, he knew he had found everything he always thought he didn't need, didn't want, couldn't have. But she was gone.

 

"Daryl." Rick's voice seemed so near yet so distant. While the archer was asleep, they had taken the liberty of covering Beth's body with a white cloth, and Daryl with a separate blanket.

 

"I'm here," was Daryl's gruff reply.

 

Rick was silent for a moment. "We should bury her."

 

Daryl was aware of the firetruck a few feet away, the others stood not very far from it. He could feel their eyes upon him, their concern and worry. For how long had they stayed like this? They understood that he wouldn't just leave. They understood that these two people had been out there together, for the longest time away from the group. They understood that for Daryl, Beth meant something deeper.

 

Daryl squeezed Beth's chilled fingers. He'd never forget the sensation of her skin upon his. He slowly sat up, felt his tired bones and muscles and joints come back to life. He looked at the bulk of Beth's body under the cloth for a moment before removing it to reveal her face.

 

She still looked beautiful. Her stitches did nothing to make her look any less like the way he remembered her. He just sat there and marveled at her beauty; he had long since memorized her face but he still wanted to engrave every single detail in his mind once again. Because they were going to leave her under the ground, this body, alone under the dirt. Another grave without a name, another unknown place they will never return to.

 

Daryl reached out and combed Beth's hair with his fingers. It had grown long since he first saw her in the farm. He thought he would see it grow longer, fairer.

 

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, lingered for a while. She'd never know he kissed her, but it didn't matter now. He took out his knife from his boot, and with such gentleness that didn't mirror his tough and intimidating demeanor, he sliced a fistful of her golden locks.

 

"I need a part of her," Daryl's hoarse voice sounded distant, even to his ears. He didn't even try to say it loud enough for anyone to hear. "I need to take something of her with me, wherever we go."

 

And with heavy steps and an even heavier heart, he stood and went for the shovel.


End file.
